I understood what a loaded question this was. Van had let me control our joining, he'd considered what had harmed me even as he sated his ravenous hunger. All of which had been rare, unusual circumstances in my interactions with him.

But never, never, had he asked me to let him have me.

To consent to his taking of my body...

Especially not to let him make love to me. I knew I barely understood what that meant. My experiences with men had been very limited.

But does he?

Would he even know how to make love to a woman?

I considered what I had learned of lovemaking and realized that was truly not what we had ever done. There'd been shouting, sobbing and pleading. And though I knew of the highwaymen that took women in these woods, I'd seen barmaids with men who paid them coin and knew that the taking did not always have to be harmful.

Sometimes they sounded pleasured. And I remembered those rare occasions that Van had made something hot explode within me that had scent my muscles to quaking and turned me to clay in his hands.

In truth what I knew of the act was still very limited now. I've been possessed by a demon and every act he'd manipulated me into had benefitted him in some way, I had not been romanced by a man.

I reminded myself harshly of the difference. Filling me with shame.

Locked me more deeply to him.

***

"What will this cost me, Van?"

"What do you mean?" He leaned more toward the fire. Making his eyes glint with a gold light which seemed to be in motion. Like smoke over his irises.

In the distance I heard crickets chirping. Night birds screeched and somewhere far off there were branches cracking as someone walked an old trail.

Possibly the witches.

Perhaps bandits.

"Everything you've made me do or say has in some way made things worse for me with you."

"I never asked you to say my real name." He pointed out. Scooting on the log in a way that indicated, even now, he was uncomfortable discussing that horrible event.

I shuddered at the memory of the horrible thing he'd become when I called him out.

"I did, in-fact, caution you against using it. Several times."

He had. He'd covered my mouth. Begged me to let him heal me before I said it. Warned me that it might not have the result I so hoped for.

But I did it anyway.

And I had suffered for it. Despite all his many kindnesses, I now could not look at him without seeing the hint of that awful demon just behind his eyes.

So easily brought to the forefront by whispering one word.

"Please don't change the subject, Van." I gave him a long look. "What will this cost me."

He leaned forward. Tilting his head nearly horizontal as he returned my pensive study. "Everything..."

***

What does that mean?

"It means, you risk everything. My demon has hurt you. I've taken you against your will. I've found you everywhere you would hide. Taken you no matter your pleading and struggling. Yet, here I sit. Asking you to give me what I've previously taken."

I mulled over his words. Understanding the accuracy of all of them.

"Saying yes to me now does not condone my actions but it indicates a small fragment of forgiveness, an acknowledgement of the most intimate form of trust. You risk your pride, your dignity...All those things you retained in resisting me. Perhaps you risk your immortal soul."

"Is that what you're after, Van? Are you trying to break me down so you can have my soul?"

"No." He shook his head. "I suppose in some small way. I'm trying to find a piece of mine by learning about yours."

"I don't understand what you're saying..."

He sighed. "Perhaps I do not either..."

***

He went back to cutting at the bits of wood. Quiet a long time. I watched the firelight shimmering in his black hair. Noted the square cut of his jaw. The high lines of his cheekbones. The dark glint of his black eyes which so quickly turned gold when he was aroused. His long curling eyelashes under those slashing black brows.

And I realized that he was probably a very handsome man once.

Women would've wanted him then.

It's probably why he was such a philanderer.

I realized he was looking at me thoughtfully. That he'd probably been listening to all my thoughts.

As he often does.

"What is it you wish to know?" He asked impassively.

"Why did you become what you have?" I asked. Wanting to know him. Wanting to be intimate with him in all the ways he'd previously denied me before I deigned to answer this question which seemed to matter so much to me.

This question that could cost me, my very soul to answer.

***

"I probably wasn't what you think." Van explained. He rose from the log he sat on and strolled around the fire to sit on the ground next to me.

He's moving closer? Why? To get his hands on me?

He shot me a quick look. "No. Not yet. I'm still awaiting your answer. I came over here because I could no longer tolerate the distance between us. I wanted to be nearer. To smell you, to feel your heat next to me. To take in your energy..."

"Steal it you mean?" I said a bit bitterly without meaning to.

"No. I only steal your energy when I'm weak. And I've been strong enough I've not had to, in awhile."

"You have been more visible. Why?"

"My demon fed on your fear." He looked down as if gazing at me while he said was far too painful. "On your suffering and it gorged itself well."

He shifted and stared forward. "It will likely sustain me a long while. And the other things..."

"What other things."

He shifted restlessly again. His boots crunching over leaves. "I'm learning that when I experience emotions it helps keep my demonic nature at bay."

***

"I suppose that would make sense." I murmured chewing my lip.

"Why's that?" He gave me a curious glance.

"Well, to experience something so human as emotion probably draws you further from the demon that binds you."

"What then, do you suppose, would happen were I to fall in love?"

I shrugged. "I doubt you're capable."

"Do you?"